


Rotten heart

by Romantik_Kun



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Comfort, Consensual Sex, Falling In Love, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 13:06:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11578683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romantik_Kun/pseuds/Romantik_Kun
Summary: S'irr, the Khajiit master of the Thieves Guild wakes up one morning and remembers a strange voice speaking to him in his dreams. The strange conversation leaves him feeling anxious. He's missing something in his life, something important, but he cannot put his finger on what exactly. Will Lady Mara's call fall in death ears? Is it to late for love to blossom within his rotten heart?





	Rotten heart

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to try writing something about Skryim and see how it worked out. It took a lot of work actually but I'm fairly happy with the result. Hope you guys won't get bored before reaching the end (that's where the good stuff happens) and I hope you'll enjoy! And please excuse my english I'm really trying my best to make this readable! (>.<)

Riften is a damn ugly place, the city isn’t kept particularly clean and the canal is polluted. The guards are all corrupted, paid to do Maven’s bidding and knowingly or not the thieves guild’s. Its people are tired, theft, extortions, blackmail, break-ins and violence are an everyday affaire here and no one is safe unless they pay good coin for protection. Essentially you pay to be left alone, everyone knows the men that harass the town’s people and the men who protect them are one and the same. But nothing in Riften is as easily defined, the real scum hides away within its core.  
The Ratway, the city under the city, a slum, regrouping the worse this town has to offer and in its center: The Ragged Flagon. A tavern of some sort, although not just anyone is allowed inside. Commonly believed to be the hideout of the thieves’ guild, no decent folk would ever dare setting foot here. Further in, the Ratway Warrens, only nameless psychopaths and unaffiliated thieves roam in the filth of that place. Carefully hidden however, not far from the Flagon, the Cistern stands as the true center of operation. There, the members of the guild roam freely, their riches locked away safely.  
It is true that the thieves guild has taken back their rightful place on the podiums of crime, but not long ago they still suffered silently as a dying organization. One man is responsible for their return, a Khajiit named S’irr. A remarkable thief whom talents are revered among his peers. He now deals in the shadows as the guild master.  
\--  
S’irr stretches his arms, still lying in bed. With heavy eyelids he looks to his left, where Rune’s bed was. He knew that if the bed was empty it meant he had overslept. Thankfully Rune was there, sleeping soundly.  
“It must still be early then.” He thinks to himself, looking at the ceiling.  
He doesn’t know why but he feels anxious. He knows he dreamed about something unpleasant but doesn’t remember what exactly. He recalls something about a pile of gold and some precious looking gems but that confuses him even more. He’s usually happy to dream about such things and the guild’s current situation is so fructuous it might have been a prophecy. He chuckles at the thought, imagining himself buried under a ton of treasures.

“What the…?”

He opens his eyes, for some reasons that didn’t make him feel better and that’s odd considering how much he loves gold. He always daydreams about riches when he feels down. This morning however, everything felt wrong. He never wakes up before Rune, he rarely dreams and even the thought of gold didn’t cheer him up. His ears turn back, falling almost flat on his head.  
“This sucks.”  
The Khajiit forces himself back to sleep, this was no way to start a day and he intended to start it differently once he would wake up again. Drowsiness sets and soon enough he’s back asleep.  
\--  
He finds himself plunged back into the same dream, the big pile of treasures is still there but all around is nothing but darkness, there’s no telling how far the void reaches. The mountain of gold is the only tangible thing around, its glimmer beckons. It feels like an invitation, one S’irr cannot possibly to turn down. He manages to stop himself however, this almost feels like a test, the way it perfectly reflects how omnipresent avarice is in his everyday life frightens him. That’s when a gentle voice makes itself heard, it whispers softly and lovingly:  
“Hero of the dragon blood, what you see is the reflection of your life. Fame, glory and earthly possessions are mirrored and appear to you as treasures. You have done well in collecting so many things. However…”

The voice belongs to a woman, it echoes into the empty space around him.

“The void, the ominous blackness reflects how empty your heart truly is. One’s nature isn’t easily altered but if my voice is reaching you then it must not be too late. I ask that when your eyes open for a second time today, they open to the truth of what’s really important…”  
Utter silence is all that’s left.  
“What’s truly important? The emptiness of my heart?” He repeats the words as not to forget them, he has the feeling they were important.  
\--  
The tired cat wakes up for the second time today, his head feels heavy the restlessness he felt earlier is still there.  
“Again?” He grunts, now he feels even worse, maybe he’s sick. He also has the feeling he is forgetting something very important.  
Thrynn walks up to him and gives him a bottle of mead.

“A bit early for booze, no?” The Khajiit sighs, taking the bottle anyway.

“If it was mornin’.” The burly man walks away scoffing. 

“Don’t tell me… I totally overslept.” No matter, thieves work at night anyway right? And he isn’t in the mood to torment himself over trivial things like waking up late. His stomach makes an irritated sound, indicating that lunch was long overdue. He leaves the comfort of his bed and walks toward the gang, everyone was at the table.

“About time, lad!” Brynjolf says mockingly.

S’irr: Good mornin’.

Completely ignoring the fact that it wasn’t morning anymore.

Brynjolf: We were debating whether we should start looking for a new guild master. We thought you had kicked the bucket. Ahah!

Sapphire: Right, as if we could find a better one in this age.  
She rolled her eyes, annoyed at the pleasantry.

Rune: I agree, with the lass.

Brynjolf: By the gods lads, I was just messin’ around, there’s no way I’d leave any of you chumps rule things over here.

Loud laughter fills the air.

S’irr didn’t laugh however, he couldn’t bring himself to. What the hell was wrong with him, his friends were all here enjoying a meal, having fun and he was standing around like an idiot.

“…friends, huh?”

He says under his breath, still lost in thought. The word awakes something in the back of his mind but he couldn’t for the life of him get a grasp. He felt a tear in his eye, now that was messed up. What was he getting all emotional for?

Thrynn is the first to notice. He looks surprised.

“Wow this must be one hell of a rough ‘morning’, eh boss?”

That gets everyone’s attention on their leader who’s still standing next to the big table. It was a little insensitive of him but Thrynn doesn’t have a way with words. Seeing their leader looking dejected however, has quite the impact. The room falls silent. He has to say something, and so he gulpes down the ale in one go.

“I think I need to rob someone clean today, I’m not leaving one damn septim behind.” He slammed his fist on the table and proceeded to get out of the cistern. Everyone looked baffled, normally an announcement like that would have set everyone spirits on fire, but not tonight.  
\--  
S’irr proceeds as he always do. He makes sure the cost is clear, picks the lock and breaks-in. So far so good, now he has some house cleaning to do. He steals valuables after valuables, putting them randomly in his pockets. Before he knows it the whole house is looted and so he gets out and back at the cistern to look at the goods. When he enters he notices everyone is asleep. It is pretty late in the night, so it was to be expected. He takes out the loot and spreads it across the table. This will make for some good cash. But he isn’t satisfied, something feels wrong, there is an emptiness in his heart. Something he wants, but he doesn’t know what that is. In the past there were moments when he felt just like that and it was one of his life’s mystery. He thinks back at what happened earlier.  
“Friends… the words triggered something in me earlier. Could that be what I’m missing?”  
He ponders.

“No that’s not right, I have friends and I’m quite satisfied with them. They resemble me and I resemble them. That’s good enough for me. So then, what is it that I’m missing?”

He looks around and notices Tonilia just came back into the cistern, she meets him at the table.

Tonilia: Good catch, I’ll look at the goods and tell you what I can turn in easily tomorrow.

S’irr: Right, thank you.

Tonilia hesitated.  
Tonilia: I heard about your outburst earlier, something troubling you?

S’irr: *Sigh* I’ll tell you, I obviously can’t figure that shit out by myself. See, I feel as though I have everything, you know? Money, friends, a roof. I never cared about anything else, and yet I feel like I’m missing something. Something really important.

Tonilia stays silent for a moment.  
Tonilia: When I think back at what life’s like for most people I think about: A job, friends, family and love. Maybe that’s what you’re missing?  
…  
S’irr blinks once, then twice, his mouth is gaping. Could it really be that simple? How the fuck had he not figured it out by now? The sudden realisation floods him, in all his years he had not once been in a relationship, his friends back in Elsweyr used to joke that he was married to his money. He had been so focused on his “career” that he completely overlooked this side of things. You know, THAT side of things, flesh brushing against flesh, romantic nights out. That sort of nonsense. He blushes, but Tonilia can’t tell, she knows that she hit the mark however.

Tonilia: *Chuckles* Well think hard about it, I’m sure you’ll figure someone out and all.

She leaves for her bed, which she shares with Vekel, her boyfriend. 

“The answer was right in front of me this whole time? You have got to be kidding me.”  
Thousands of reasons why he should have realised sooner come running to his head. Married couples everywhere, Thrynn and Vipir joking about sex non-stop. There’s even a bloody temple dedicated to Mara in town. He runs and throw himself on his bed, upset and flush with embarrassment. He never knew love.  
\--  
The morning comes and our Khajiit friend has not slept at all. He spent the rest of the night thinking about what he should do now, he comes to the conclusion that he doesn’t like women, they’re too scary. He starts eliminating potential mates one by one:  
Thrynn is too dumb, Vipir talks too much, Dirge is a brute, Etienne is too quiet, Delvin is too old and a pervert. Cynric is too mysterious, Garthar boasts too much and Niruin and Ravyn are elves, S’irr doesn’t like the way they look. Rune’s a sweety but he can’t think of him that way.  
That leaves him with Brynjolf, a dependable man whose talents are respected, he’s well-liked by everyone in the guild, and on top of everything off he’s pleasant to look at. It seems that things are settled, but honestly speaking the real work is only just beginning. How the hell do you confess your love to someone? What does it even entails?  
S’irr is completely lost in thought and so he doesn’t notice when Brynjolf approaches him.

Brynjolf: Something troubling you lad? 

S’irr: “Yeah, I need to figure out how to let Brynjolf know I love him.” He says, pouting.  
The words come out without him realising it, but by the time he does, it’s far too late. S’irr ears go back and he hisses at the man standing next to him. He’s incredibly displeased with the slip-up and wishes the red-haired Nord could just go away.

Brynjolf is about to talk when Rune comes out from behind him.

Rune: Bryn, we need your help with something, can you hurry back at the flagon? I think Vex is about to kill Delvin.

A timely rescue indeed, or so he thinks, but the Nord doesn’t leave immediately.

Brynjolf: I think we both need to talk, find me at the shadow stone after dark will you?

He speaks calmly before leaving without waiting for an answer.

S’irr wondered if he had just made a terrible mistake.  
\--  
The night’s upon Skyrim, the wind’s blowing a warm breeze. The cat’s making his way to the shadow stone as instructed. He is nervous, he knows about kissing and stuff, but he never did it. So shameful for a hero of legend. He arrives and is greeted by a beautiful sight. At the standing stone’s feet lies a tablecloth, on it some cheese, cuts of dried meat and a bottle of wine. Candles are lighting up the place. It takes him by surprise, he hesitates to make his way further. Maybe some people got here before Brynjolf and are now enjoying a romantic picnic. He’s about to back out when he bumps into the man standing behind him.

Brynjolf: You weren’t thinking about running away were you lad?

He smiles with a raised eyebrow.

S’irr: Brynjolf, I think someone got here before us, we should go and talk somewhere else.

He says pointing at the set-up. The Nord laughs heartily, while scratching the back of his head.

Brynjolf: Is it so hard to believe I set this all up?

S’irr: But why…?

Brynjolf: Did I misunderstand when I heard you say you loved me?

He takes a step closer to his boss.

Brynjolf: If so then I’m terribly sorry and I have some things to confess.

S’irr feels his heart skip a beat. Could this be the fabled dinner/date he had heard women fawn over?

S’irr: I… No, you heard right, but…

His face is flush with embarrassment, thankfully there was no way Brynjolf could discern a blush under that dark fur.

Brynjolf: Then come here.

He takes the shocked cat by the hand and leads him toward the picnic. It takes a while for S’irr to settle into the mood, the wine helps a great bit. He’s not so sure he could do this without some liquid courage. Brynjolf and himself talk and laugh as they always do, they stand closer than usual however and they talk about themselves. Usually it’s all about business. As the dinner come close to an end, the Nord gets close enough that their arms are now touching. They sit in silence like this for a moment before S’irr hesitantly rests his head on Brynjolf shoulder whom rests his on top of it.

S’irr: You know… I never thought it would go so fast, nor so smoothly. Does that mean you liked me too?

Brynjolf: I knew I liked you the moment I saw you, I’m not usually that forward with recruitment you know. Ahaha. 

That made sense, but S’irr had always assumed it was because the guild was desperate for new members.

Brynjolf: I just didn’t think it was my place, not after you escalated the ranks so quickly. 

S’irr: And now you’re flirting with your boss?

The man laughs at the remark.

Brynjolf: When you put it like that it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. 

S’irr: Actually none of it makes any sense. But I don’t mind. It feels right being here with you, I didn’t know I could feel this way about anything but money. I did feel like that when we acquired the eyes of the falmer though.

Brynjolf laughs once more at the honest response. It does feel quite good to just sit here, cuddling, but the red-haired thief has something a bit different in mind for the continuation. They look at each other.

Brynjolf: I invited you here to spend the night, you know what that means right?

S’irr blushes once more, his ear betray his mood this time around. They are standing up straight slightly pushing forward towards Brynjolf. Indicating his interest.

S’irr: I think I do. But I have to come clean first…

He pauses.  
S’irr: I never done that with anyone before. I’m a little scared.

Both men stay silent for a while, looking at each other, and thinking about what to do next. Brynjolf acts first, reassuringly, he scoops S’irr’s cheek in his hand. Brushing against his whiskers. 

Brynjolf: I never went this far with a man either. I confess, it’s the first time I get close enough to a Khajiit to feel your people’s fur. It always had me curious.  
He speaks frankly, admitting to such childish curiosity is unlike him. He feels like a kid wanting to pet a dog for the first time without knowing the correct way to do it. Is there any places he shouldn’t touch? Like the tail or the ears? Animals don’t normally enjoy that.

Brynjolf: What about you let me take a good look at you first, and you can do the same to me. I think that might help straight things out.  
S’irr: “Straight”, he tries repressing a laugh. 

The guild master is known for his lack of seriousness, he often speaks too much, like in this case. Brynjolf doesn’t think much of it, instead focusing and getting rid of his shirt. S’irr ears pull slightly in different directions and stand up straight, betraying his cautiousness. Pupils dilated he looks at his mate, taking in the sight. 

The Nord chest’s is broad, hair cover partially his pectorals, narrowing down into a line that goes down to his belly button. His abs are apparent, the way he was standing on top of S’irr flexing them slightly. His arms, resting on each sides of the Kajhiit are very muscular. Looking back at his face now. His beard is freshly trimmed accentuating his square jaw, his long red hair are coming down to his shoulders. His face is relaxed but the Nord’s eyes are intense. Betraying his desires.

Dovahkiin knows it’s his turn to lose the shirt now, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Of course he had been shirtless countless times before and in all kinds of situations, but it’s different now that he knows someone he cares about is prying deep into his intimacy. He doesn’t want this to stop however. And so, he gets close to Brynjolf’s ear, his whiskers tickled the Nord’s neck. 

S’irr: Do it for me? 

He whispers softly and his breath sends a shiver down the thief’s spine and directly into his pants. The invitation sounds so erotic, and Brynjolf happily obliges, placing his hands on his partner’s lower abdomen he lifts the shirt all the while brushing up along the furry chest. Soon enough the shirt is gone.  
S’irr’s fur is a beautiful jet black, almost perfectly uniform except for a patch of white fur on his right ear. Both his ears are pierced, adorning three ring shaped jewels. His hair, arranged into a Mohawk. He has the most beautiful eyes, shining like emeralds in the darkness. His expression is relaxed now, his breathing is steady.

Sitting one in front of the other they observe a while, tension building up. Brynjolf, makes a move, unable to hold it in any longer. He pushes S’irr gently, laying him down on the ground, he know stands on top of him. Letting his hands wander, he caresses his partner. Starting on his neck, slowly coming down to his pectorals, he stops at the hips, giving it a squeeze. He requires consent before going any further. His eyes lock into S’irr’s, silently seeking permission. The Khajiit chuckles softly, thieves don’t usually require permission, they take what they want. However, his partner’s consideration makes him feel safe and loved.  
The cat smiles and kisses Brynjolf, their tongues meet and dance playfully. At this point both men feel a growing discomfort in the tightness of their trousers. They settle into a rhythm and words are no longer necessary. The Nord’s hand are reaching for his mate’s trousers, freeing his erection from the previous containment. He proceeds to take his off as well. The thieves are now fully exposed, their torso pressed together. S’irr soft fur feels incredibly nice, his arms are wrapped around Brynjolf, his legs too, and he clings tightly trying to get as much friction as possible. The Khajiit moans softly, the sensations washing over him are unlike any other. Decided to go through with it, Brynjolf places both his hands on his boss’s ass, his fingers teasing his entrance. The kiss is not broken, S’irr gasps but lets his henchman do as he pleases. The Nord proceeds, getting his mate ready, the redundant come and go of his fingers leave the cat unsatisfied however. He wants something else.

S’irr: I can’t take anymore, enough with the foreplay. Let’s get to the main course already. 

His voice is desperate, Brynjolf cannot refuse the plea and obliges.  
He aligns himself before finally penetrating the smaller male. Grunts and moans fill the air. The pace gets faster and faster until both men reach an orgasm. Brynjold comes mere seconds after his partner. They cuddle, calming down.  
\--  
S’irr: You know, I never cared about anything but money. Sure I have some people in my life I rather not lose but that’s never been so true.  
He pauses.

S’irr: I can’t explain it but I feel like a void’s been filled. I’m scratching a hitch I didn’t know I had.

Brynjolf kisses his head, a gesture full of love. They lay, pressed against each other. 

S’irr: I can’t even fathom how many lives I must have ruined, I robbed people of everything they had and never turned around to think about what I had done. Honestly, I still don’t care. But no matter how rotten my heart is, I’m glad you have a place in it.  
He closed his eyes.

“Maybe that’s what’s truly important.” He whispered.


End file.
